Nothing to burn
She is starved and aimless, so it’s not difficult at all. It’s not difficult to trust them and it’s not difficult to cling to them and it’s not difficult because she needs to grasp at something so she won’t go mad. She has been starved for far too long, longer than she had even realized - she only feels it now and it only weighs on her now because she is lost and alone, alone, alone in the cold and the rage that used to fuel her is gone.
She has nothing to burn, so she starts to flicker and die.
Her lips meet his and it’s not enough to rekindle the fire, but it has to be enough to keep her alive, it has to be enough to keep her sane. She runs her fingers through his hair and pulls him close and thinks that maybe this can wash away the rest of it, that maybe if she kisses him enough she’ll forget the words scrawled on the walls around them and she’ll forget the searing pain on her shoulder and maybe, maybe, she’ll start to burn again.
When she tries to sleep, though, or when it’s her turn to keep guard, it’s Lyra she looks at. It awakens something like guilt or maybe panic because when she sees Lyra she thinks of Harris, and she doesn’t know how close the two of them were or how the other girl might react, but she doesn’t want to risk anything at all. The thought of Lyra hating her for it hurts even more than the axe, so she shares her medicine with her and helps her tend to her wounds and says nothing at all.